A Game of Advent
by CrystallicSky
Summary: In the spirit of the holiday season, Chase Young begins receiving a series of gifts... CHACK, ONESHOT


**A Game of Advent**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any money off the writing this fanfiction or attempt to.**

**Warnings: Language, sexual implication, slight vague nudity, homosexuality, etc.**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

It was a chilly day on the first of December when a gift arrived in the Land of Nowhere upon a certain Evil everlord's porch.

The gift itself was minuscule; a small rectangular box in nondescript wrapping, but Chase Young was naturally suspicious of it. As a centuries-old master of evil, one _had_ to be suspicious of anything and everything, _especially_ unwarranted gifts with an unknown source.

Chase had asked his warriors to look the box over, as was standard protocol with such things. However, their search turned up nothing sinister about the simple little box: no curses, no booby-traps, and certainly not even a hint of supernaturality about the package or whatever gift was inside of it.

It was simply a present and nothing more.

In light of this, Chase decided with a measure of wariness to open it and found inside…

…a pen.

Almost disappointed, the dragonlord inspected the silver writing instrument carefully and found it to be a space pen, the sort astronauts would use in outer space. While there was nothing threatening about the gift, as Chase had first suspected, neither was there anything spectacular about it.

Why would someone feel the need to send him this?

It was then that a small slip of paper caught Chase's eye, still resting on the bottom of the box. He picked it up and saw words etched upon the paper in a messy, relatively legible handwriting.

_When NASA first started sending astronauts in space,_ it read, _ they discovered that ball point pens didn't work in zero gravity. They spent a decade and twelve billion dollars to develop a pen that would write on any surface, in zero gravity, upside down, under water, and in temperatures that reached three-hundred degrees below zero. The Russians just used a pencil. _

Chase laughed despite himself and immediately knew who had sent the pen to him, for there was no other he knew with such scribbly handwriting or such a dry sense of humor: Jack Spicer.

Over the last few years, Chase had developed something of a peaceful acquaintanceship with the self-proclaimed Evil genius and in a very unusual way.

It'd started when Jack quite abruptly dropped out of the Heylin ranks altogether and failed to appear at any new Showdowns. Doubtful, Chase had gone to see the young man himself, demanding to know his motives.

Jack had willingly told him. He said the Heylin scene wasn't working out for him, that there was too much magic and martial arts to suit his particular skill-set and that he had decided to move onto a different kind of Evil; one where he'd fare indefinitely better.

At first, Chase had not questioned it and passed it off merely as Spicer's rationale for giving up on something at which he wasn't very good. Jack was going to stay out of Evil and live a normal, mortal life in obscurity.

Not so.

Within a few months, Chase began to hear about strange happenings in various world news. Disasters and misfortunes were occurring all over the globe: earthquakes, floods, droughts, famines, and all with no natural cause that anyone could see. On the surface, it all appeared to be unplanned, widespread chaos.

In reality, Jack had been orchestrating everything from the very start. It was his plan: unsettle the people of Earth with machine-wrought disasters and death to the point that they were _desperate_ for a savior, _desperate_ for somebody to come in and fix everything for them…

…and then Jack would step in and _be_ that somebody.

Honestly impressed, Chase complimented Jack on his clever plot for which he was amiably thanked. This was a pleasing development: Jack had not only matured in his ideas, but in his manners, as well!

Chase decided that this was a Jack Spicer he could interact with and graciously began to offer the would-be Ruler of Earth pointers in the execution of his strategy.

It was an interesting partnership, one that worked surprisingly well now that Spicer was apparently no longer the annoying little twit he'd been before. He wasn't stubborn with his ideas as he used to be and would openly accept criticism and advice for improvement when it was offered; as willing to be led as he was willing to lead. He wasn't _nearly_ as needy for Chase's attention as he used to be, either, and allowed the dragonlord to pay him the amount of attention he wished instead of practically dictating where, when, and how much Chase should focus on him.

Jack clearly liked the interest given to him, but he no longer desperately pushed for it: it was, all told, quite charming.

Once or twice, Chase had invited the youth into his palace and found him to be fairly pleasant company. When he wasn't blathering on about fake-Evil or other nonsense, it seemed that Jack actually had quite a good head on his shoulders and was even able to keep up with Chase in conversation.

Very recently, in fact, Chase felt that what could very well be considered their friendship had reached a special level.

He had officially removed the charm on his door that would automatically seek to bring harm to Spicer.

That he had done so was enough to make Chase…uncertain that his relationship with Jack wasn't becoming more than a friendship. It had been quite some time, after all, since he had liked another human being enough to _not_ want to see them in pain.

Certainly, though, Jack was not an unthinkable candidate for something greater than a friendship. He was much more pleasant to be around than he used to be, definitely attractive, _and_ the unnecessary gift, though not particularly useful, was considerate and amusing at the very least.

Setting aside the empty box and wrapping, Chase smiled and teleported the pen and the note to his study before going back to his usual daily activities.

Perhaps later, he would send Spicer a thank you letter for the gift.

However, a chance to write that letter did not come, for the very next day, another present arrived on Chase's doorstep.

This time knowing who it must've been from, Chase brought it in immediately and opened it.

To his amusement, there was a book entitled, "The Facts of Chase Young" inside, filled up with a list of 'facts' and related snapshots.

On one page was a picture of himself using a combination of magic and martial arts skills to defy gravity with the caption, _In fine print on the last page of the Guinness Book of World Records, it notes that all world records are held by Chase Young, and those listed in the book are simply the closest anyone else has ever gotten._

Another showed him in the process of kicking Clay Bailey in the face and annotated beneath the photograph were the words, _ Chase Young invented a language that incorporates karate and roundhouse kicks, so, the next time Chase Young is kicking your ass, don't be offended or hurt: he may be just trying to tell you he likes your hat._

Already snickering in amusement, Chase couldn't help but laugh out loud when he found a photo of him slapping a ghostly Wuya across the face. _ Chase Young is so tough,_ the caption read, _he has the power to bitch-slap ghosts._

When he finished flipping through the book, he checked the box it'd come in and, true to form, he found a note enclosed.

_I've been working on this for a **long** time,_ it said. _I've been collecting pictures for just about **ever** before I had enough to actually make this! Most people think these facts apply to Chuck Norris, but clearly, they're about you. I'm willing to bet all the world leaders spread those rumors so people wouldn't find out about the **real** badass they apply to. Anyways, I just thought you might like to have this book as a written testament to your awesomeness._

Chase happened to be a very self-centered individual, and the praise Spicer was giving him, even through a little note, _did_ things to his ego.

He liked those things very much.

Thoroughly pleased with the present, Chase turned back to his new book and went to reread the one about the U.S. bordering China before he roundhouse kicked it all the way to the other side of the globe.

Surprisingly enough, the next day brought yet _another_ surprise from Spicer!

It came in the form of an unassuming box, just like the first two, but there was a very distinct difference this time: Chase could _smell_ it.

The overlord wasn't quite sure _how_ long he gaped like a slack-jawed fool at the box of fresh baked goods, covered in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry icing and topped with various sprinkles, candies, or bits of fruit…

Cupcakes, Chase had dazedly thought to himself, _how_ had that rotten little fink known…?

In the end, it wasn't much important, for Chase had long held a weakness for cupcakes and good _gods_ was Spicer an excellent baker of them! In a matter of hours, all but a few of the large batch were eaten and utterly savored.

Chase indulgently licked his lips of a rich, dark chocolate icing, leisurely popping the last bit of the cupcake it'd come from into his mouth and almost as an afterthought, he went to read the note Spicer'd surely left with the gift.

_I found out a couple years back that you're kind of into cupcakes, so I decided to work on some recipes and see if I couldn't make you a batch you'd like. If all has gone well, most of 'em have been eaten by now._

Chase almost laughed aloud. Jack's intuition was decidedly correct if he were to go by the nearly-empty gift-box, his full stomach, and his satisfied sweet-tooth!

Idly, he wondered just what Jack was trying to do with these gifts; if it were a bribe or a strange attempt at seduction…

Then, of course, it occurred to Chase that it didn't really matter _what_ it was, as he had _cupcakes…_

The following day brought a fourth box, one which Chase had been expecting.

Chocolate greeted the dragonlord upon opening the box, a wide assortment of rich, luxury chocolates from various parts of the world.

At the sight and smell of the sweets, Chase was quite tempted to have a few, but he knew himself much better than that. A few would turn into several would turn into a good deal of them, and after yesterday's plethora of cupcakes…

Well, Chase wasn't exactly keen on gaining a lot of weight anytime soon.

Prudently, he packed the chocolates back into the large box they'd come in and ordered several warriors to squirrel it away somewhere he could find it later.

This done, he looked to the note Jack had left with today's present.

_I know a lot less about chocolate than I do about cupcakes,_ it proclaimed. _To me, all chocolate is good chocolate, but I figured you might be a little pickier than me. In the end, I just decided to send as many different kinds of chocolate and in bulk to be safe. Hope you like it!_

Spicer's strategy was a good one, but certainly not necessary: there were very few types of chocolate in the world that Chase explicitly _didn't_ like. Dark, milk, white, truffles, nuts, cherries: if chocolate was involved, chances were it was a good thing.

Again, Chase couldn't help but wonder what the point of the gift-giving was, but he doubted there was any sort of dark, ulterior motive. An ulterior motive, perhaps, but Jack certainly knew better by now than to try and cross Chase Young, so the motive, if there was one, would not be anything that would cause harm to Chase, his warriors, or any of his plans.

For now, the presents were simply presents and besides that, they were…enjoyable.

Chase found himself looking forward to the next day: he wanted to see what Spicer would bring him this time.

The box received on December fifth was a good deal smaller than the fourth's, only about six inches in length, width, and height.

Had the giver been anyone else, Chase surely would've been disappointed, taking the smaller box to mean a less significant gift.

However, this was _Jack Spicer_ being talked about: the eccentric young genius was a master at fitting amazing things in small packages, and so it was the status quo to assume the same about the relatively small present.

Chase was a mite puzzled to open the box and find a fake cinnamon roll inside.

Oh, surely it was realistic-looking placed in a brushed silver dish on top of a gingham napkin, drizzled with white 'icing,' but Chase knew the look of wax when he saw it and this was most definitely wax.

And then, he noticed the small wick on top of the bun.

_Yeah, it's a candle,_ Jack's note helpfully provided. _I don't particularly know you to like the smell of cinnamon rolls, but…c'mon, it's a **cinnamon roll.** Enough said. If you're one of the small minority of weird people on the planet for whom that is **not** 'enough said,' then feel free to throw the candle out, but otherwise, be fully prepared to have people walk in on you and ask what you're baking._

It was a strange thought, but a mental image of Jack popped up, lighting this very candle in the kitchen. Within minutes, robots, parents, cousins, even the _monks_ were popping their heads in to see where the smell was coming from.

Amused, Chase laughed and decided to go test the candle out for himself.

Having controlled the element of fire once upon a time, Chase required no match or lighter and simply willed the wick atop the 'cinnamon roll' to alight. The moment the flame began to melt the wax, a heavenly aroma began to fill the room.

Chase was impressed: it really _did_ smell like a freshly-baked cinnamon roll.

The dragonlord turned at the sound of claws clicking upon the floor and an investigative sniff.

_Are you **baking,** Master?_ Diol asked in disbelief.

It was many minutes later when Chase finally got his laughter under control enough to offer Jack's note in explanation.

The black jaguar snorted. _Kid's good,_ he acknowledged, turning and walking out of the room. _Especially with what he wrote on the back._

Chase paused. On the back…?

The overlord turned the piece of paper over and read the words, _I **told** you it would happen._

And then, Chase was gone into another bout of amused laughter.

The next day brought a very different sort of gift, one with the word, 'FRAGILE' emblazoned in big bold letters and the actual present wrapped so thoroughly with bubblewrap that it could not be immediately identified.

Carefully removing the plastic, bubbled sheet and storing it away for future entertainment (because even ancient beings of great Evil had inner-children and _bubblewrap!_), Chase blinked in mild confusion at the _very_ large wineglass he now held in his hand.

As always, Spicer's note served as a source of enlightenment.

_I'd tell you it's a giant wineglass, but I happen to know you're not retarded and could easily figure that out for yourself._

Chase snorted. Well, at least Jack had _that_ much faith in his mental capacities.

_Either way, the dimensions of the glass make it able to hold about 750 milliliters, or the contents of the average full wine-bottle. Have fun. ;D_

Ever since becoming an immortal, partially human and partially dragon, Chase's tolerance for alcohol had been significantly raised. Whereas a whole bottle of wine was enough to get a mortal the falling over and passing out for awhile sort of drunk, it barely gave Chase a buzz.

It'd long been a source of difficulty for him: drinking a straight bottle of wine made him feel like a drunkard (which he was most definitely _not_) and yet a single glass, or even a few of them, was never enough to really _do_ anything.

Chase glanced at his gift and grinned.

Hello, convenient solution! He now had something with which he could actually _drink_ and still feel classy doing so.

It'd been a few months since Chase had last visited his wine cellar. Perhaps now was a good time to pop in on it…

After an enjoyable night spent with the latest Spicer-gift (and goodness, was the convenient solution convenient!), yet another box with 'FRAGILE' stamped on it came for the everlord.

Upon removing and storing away the newest round of bubblewrap, Chase was quite excited to find an assortment of single-malt scotch.

Glenfiddich, Glengoyne, Glenkinchie, Glenmorangie; it seemed Jack had sent him more glens than a map of Scotland!

He'd left a very short note this time, one that read only, _In case you need a change of pace from the wine._

Chase hadn't been _planning_ on doing any drinking today…

_However,_ it would be just plain _rude_ to refuse such a generous gift, and the dragonlord went in search of a glass to hold the scotch.

December eighth brought a gift from an entirely different spectrum of gifts than the most recent, and on that day, Chase Young found himself staring at a comfy-looking pair of fuzzy pink slippers.

_I'd heard you already had a pair of these from Wuya,_ Jack indirectly informed the recipient of his present. _Unfortunately, I'd also heard that when she lived with you, she stole 'em for about a month and sniffed them while she…well, you can guess._

Chase audibly gagged. Wuya being disgusting was not new. _Masturbating_ while smelling his favorite slippers? Yes, as a matter of fact, that was a level of disgusting that _was_ new!

_Yeah, I threw up in my mouth a little when she told me, too,_ the note offered in sympathy. _She really needs to learn not to brag about creepy stuff like that. Still, I figured you might want a pair of slippers that **hadn't** been perved on by a horny Heylin witch, so that'd be these. Trust me that they're awesome: I've got a pair in black at home and I hardly ever want to take them off._

With a grimace, Chase placed the note back in the box and ordered the nearest warrior to him to locate his old slippers and destroy them in the most violent way possible before deigning to more closely inspect his new pair.

The pink fuzz on the shoe was quite soft to the touch and thankfully, it only covered the outside and the top of the inside of the footwear (fuzz on the sole would cause his feet to sweat unpleasantly and mat the pink fluff in a less than desirable fashion). The design of the slipper itself was in such a way to provide appropriate arch support while still allowing for a great deal of comfort…

Overall, Chase was pleased with the choice of slipper. A few years ago, he was quite certain Jack would have sent him fuzzy pink _bunny_ slippers that would've been discarded immediately.

It was nice to know that Jack had at least grown up enough to accurately judge what sort of gifts would be appreciated and which would not.

This sort of judgment was proven over again the next day, when a fuzzy pink bathrobe was found boxed up on his porch.

_Even Heylin have to coordinate with their outfits,_ Jack had observed in his written communiqué, _so I decided to get you a robe to match the slippers. Now, you can be stylishly dressed even on a day off from havoc-sowing and mayhem-wreaking!_

It was almost amusing to receive the robe, as Chase had little doubt that of all who knew him, none would expect a fuzzy pink robe to be a garment he would ever wear.

But Spicer had known, or if not _known,_ then he was at least able to make an educated guess.

Deciding not to think deeper on the implications of that, Chase decided it was high time for a good old-fashioned lazy day while all the proper components were present: a cozy bathrobe, a comfy pair of slippers to match it, assorted chocolates, and liquor.

Perhaps he might even light that scented candle, as well!

One relaxing day of luxury later, a surprisingly large rectangular package appeared on Chase's porch.

Opening it revealed an old-fashioned gumball machine, fully-stocked with the candy and ready for use.

_Despite popular belief, you're not a fuddy-duddy,_ Spicer's note read. _You're capable of fun and the enjoyment of novelty, so I've decided to address that with the next couple of things I'm sending you. Just FYI, the gumball machine may be old-school tech, but it's still tech and I know my way around a wrench: I rigged it for you to work without any coin-input, 'cause what kind of sick, twisted world makes Heylin overlords pay for their candy?_

Chase smiled; how true that statement was!

His gloved hand reached out to the machine and twisted the knob below the slot for the quarter and sure enough, a bright yellow gumball was dispensed into his waiting palm.

Even knowing that Jack had purposefully tinkered with the object to remove the necessity of money, being able to simply turn the little handle and receive the candy felt…naughty; like he was beating the system in some minuscule way.

Chase liked that his wickedness had been taken into consideration, at least on some level.

Of course, neither could he deny that the prospect of future gifts excited him as did their supposed theme of 'fun.'

Chase couldn't help but wonder what Jack considered fun to a man like him…

This question was answered the next morning when a tiny metal box came for him, looking very much like a Rubik's cube and, unlike all the presents prior to it, this one had no note.

A bit confused, Chase nonetheless took the thing inside with him to see what he could determine of it. After all, it could not just be a Rubik's cube, for it was crafted of metal which meant that Jack had been the one to make it.

A mechanical wizard like Spicer would not debase himself in such a way as to go to the trouble of building something so simple.

This in mind, Chase twisted the cube this way and that, lining up like-colored boxes with a dexterous ease until the puzzle was completed.

To his surprise, the cube began shifting in his hands, moving its panels and altering its dimensions until it was a pyramid with once-more jumbled colored sides. Somewhere in the transmogrification process, a slip of paper had fallen out of the thing.

_Congrats, you finished Level One!_ it proclaimed. _There's nineteen more to go from here on out in as many different shapes as you can think of (and a couple that don't even have a name; I checked)! Be warned: it gets harder the more you play with it, just like a penis!_

With a snort at the awful sense of humor, Chase inspected the newly-transformed puzzle. Nineteen more levels, eh? That had the ring of a challenge to it.

The mechanical device kept the warlord busy for several hours, true to its promise of becoming more and more difficult with each succeeding level. Nonetheless, it was eventually finished with a thorough sense of triumph and Chase decided that it was an exceedingly acceptable gift.

The following day saw Chase preoccupied for quite some time with a mechanical device, as well, but this one was _decidedly_ less pleasant.

At precisely 4:30 AM, a shrill beeping noise awakened the dragonlord from a deep slumber, the source a small machine flying just out of reach.

The chase took hours, the blasted device consistently speeding up, slowing down, dodging magical energy and objects thrown at it until finally, _finally_ it stopped in midair, allowing itself to be caught.

Frustrated into a finely-honed rage by now, it was all Chase could do to simply grab the thing and snarl wordless hate at it in preparation to crush the damned thing to bits.

"Wait!" it cried out in desperation, "Don't destroy me, yet!"

Chase paused as it spoke, his silent glare serving as a prompt to continue and make its last words _quick._

"For the record, I was only a diversion! Your real present is in the north atrium."

Present…? Oh! Was _that_ what this annoying contraption was all about?

Today's gift must have been quite a bit different than the others if he'd actually needed to be distracted for it to be moved into the palace.

"Erm, am I…off the hook, then…?" the flying machine hesitantly inquired.

"The hell you are," Chase sneered, easily crunching it to pieces in his palm.

Brushing bits of metal and circuitry off of his gloves, Chase nonetheless went to see the north atrium where his present supposedly resided.

When he got there, he was not disappointed in the least.

In the matter of hours the flying robot had taken in distracting the overlord, Spicer had built a Go-Kart racecourse, complete with twists, turns, and obstacles.

_I'm kinda jealous of you,_ Jack's note, laid upon the seat of the vehicle, confessed. _You're gonna be the first person to test out this awesome course. It's been exhaustively safety-tested, but nobody's actually been on it yet. One of these days, I'm gonna have to come over and try it out but today, it's all yours. Have fun with the hoops of fire and the attack-badgers!_

Chase was very glad he was alone in the spacious atrium: no one was there to hear the soft, giddy noise of excitement he made before taking the wheel of the Go-Kart.

The present received on the thirteenth was a back-to-basics and there was no long, drawn-out distraction period; just a modestly-wrapped box left at the door.

Upon tearing off the paper and revealing a board-game, Chase just as soon broke out into laughter to find said game titled, "Beating the F%k Out of the Xiaolin Losers."

A quick onceover assured the warlord that the board was a highly-detailed map of the world, even going so far as to pinpoint the locations of the Land of Nowhere (labeled 'Home Base') and Guan's and the Xiaolin temple (labeled 'Enemy Reinforcements' and 'Enemy Base' respectively).

_The Rules are in the box,_ Spicer's note offered, _but basically, it's played like Risk but accommodates real-world limitations and incorporates the phenomenon of magic. Essentially, you can have fun and plan detailed assaults against the Xiaolin at the same time!_

Setting up the game, Chase noted that the game pieces were even modeled after the real-life players in the Heylin-Xiaolin conflict (and was he a _handsome_ devil, even as a tiny plastic game-piece!) and a quick call for Diol had the jaguar human-formed at his side.

With little persuasion, the warrior had agreed to a game and Chase proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon 'strategizing' with his favorite cat.

The following day, there was no box and no wrapping paper, and Chase was greeted with the sight of a gigantic trampoline upon opening his door.

Immediately, he had teleported the object inside to a room that could adequately hold it, his inner-child squealing in glee at the thought of his very own trampoline.

_Why_ had he never gotten one for himself?

The note that came with the large trampoline said, _I never saw one of these around whenever I visited, which is totally crazy. **Everybody** should have their own trampoline, if just to bounce out some frustration every once in awhile. Hope you have fun with yours and…hey, did I give you too much bubblewrap with your glass presents? It seems to me like I gave you a lot of it. Ah, well, I'm sure a smart guy like you will find **something** to do with it…_

Chase Young was many things and none of them a moron: he knew immediately what Jack was trying to get at and the idea was a spectacular one.

He could put _bubblewrap_ on the _trampoline._

At the risk of sounding juvenile, _AWESOME._

The following series of loud popping noises caused several warriors to wonder where the drive-by shooting had happened, the Xiaolin monks to wonder what in the _hell_ that sound was, and Master Monk Guan to look up and demand to know who had given Chase Young bubblewrap.

The next day, however, it was Guan who ended up dragged into Jack's gift-giving when a small, handheld video-screen appeared to Chase.

_Awhile back, you told me that Guan had always **loathed** the smell of curdled goat's milk,_ Spicer noted in his letter. _Since you two aren't exactly on the best of terms, I figured screwing with him a little could be considered a present in and of itself. I hid small amounts of curdled goat's milk all over his temple and set up a surveillance system that transmits directly to, you guessed it, the vidscreen you're holding right now. Mess around with it a little and see if you can't figure out how to switch to different cameras, work the volume, etc._

The device was easy enough to operate and a wide and wicked grin broke out on Chase's face as the default camera setting showed Guan, one of his oldest foes, sniffing the air with the most disgusted look on his face.

Throughout the day, the Xiaolin man wandered around his temple, looking for the source of the awful smell and growing angrier and angrier as he failed to find it.

At one point, Guan destroyed several objects in a blind rage, ordering of no one to tell him, "WHAT SMELLS LIKE RANCID GOAT'S MILK AROUND HERE?"

Chase couldn't help his smirk as he informed his once-upon-a-time-compatriot, "Well, that would be the rancid goat's milk, Guan!"

His cruel, mocking laughter could be heard echoing throughout his palace that day, and Chase sincerely doubted that anything could top the incident as one of the funniest things he had ever seen in his long, long life.

He was, naturally, proven wrong the very next day.

On this day, there was absolutely nothing on his porch but a letter.

_Wuya's been kinda clingy to you, lately,_ it said. _I don't like it and I'm willing to bet my entire fortune (which is about ten times a fuckton, if you were wondering) that you don't like it, either. I decided to knock her down a few pegs on your behalf and since she's incapable of handling her own problems, I'm guessing she'll run straight to you for help, so you'll be getting to see my handiwork in person. She's even less attractive than she was before (I know, impossible, right?), so she'll be out of commission as the bitch you fuck when you're desperate, but…well, I wouldn't worry about a lack of sex anytime in the near future._

The ending of that letter was enough to give Chase pause.

What did Spicer mean by that little comment…?

Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to think about it, as almost immediately after he finished reading, Wuya's distant voice and hurried footsteps met his ears.

"Chase," the witch called in approach, "Jack, that rotten little bastard…you have to _do_ something! He- he- he-"

Chase did not let her finish speaking once he caught sight of her, for he could not contain his laughter.

Wuya had been shaved completely bald, her long, red tresses now entirely gone. More than that, she had been tattooed, the top of her shiny, hairless skull bearing a happy smile and her face displaying a crudely-drawn penis.

It only took a few seconds for the overlord to literally fall out of his throne from cackling at the Heylin witch's misfortune so hard. Eventually, Wuya simply left in anger and embarrassment, leaving Chase behind to try and control his amused giggles.

It would be a long time before Chase's stomach stopped aching from all the laughing he did that day.

On the seventeenth of December, however, there was no laughter, only another wrapped box.

Opening it revealed a silk robe of a bright, cherry red and a quick look at it was enough to tell Chase that it would be a snug fit. Not uncomfortably so, of course, but the garment appeared to have been designed in such a way as to show off the contours of the wearer's body.

Not even _remotely_ a problem for one as physically appealing as Chase, but it _did_ seem to be quite an intimate gift.

_I know you've got the pink robe I gave you for relaxing, but I figured you might want something for those 'feeling sexy' days, too. I hope I get to see you wearing this someday soon… ;)_

The robe was lovely and the thread count astronomical (as he liked it), but again, Jack had left a fairly suggestive comment.

Could Spicer be trying to make a play for him?

Chase considered the possibility, deemed it probable, and went to hang his present up in the closet before it wrinkled.

He would simply wait and see how Jack went about this seduction…

As expected, another present came for Chase the following morning. Prepared for something inane, such as flowers, it was somewhat surprising to find a moderately-sized carving of a Chinese dragon inside the box.

_I saw something like this at a mall when I was younger,_ the note explained, _only it was in the stereotypical jade and a lot smaller. I liked the idea of it, but I decided to make it a little more personal. I know you used to be the Dragon of Fire way back when, so I had it made out of carnelian. Oh, and the dragon's pearl is actually a pearl, in case you were wondering. You deserve better than knock-off anything._

Chase idly looked the dragon-statue over, observing its high-level of quality. This gift wasn't exactly sexy, but there was something…sweet about it; something romantic.

It was an interesting tactic for Spicer to use and Chase couldn't help but wonder what would be coming next.

What actually _came_ next was another letter without a physically-there present and reading it only raised more questions for Chase than it answered.

_I had to pull **a lot** or strings for this one,_ Jack had written. _I had to blackmail Katnappé, bribe Dojo, and take advantage of a whole lot of people using the Spicer name as leverage, but I managed to get it together in time. I just don't want to have to keep seeing you in the position you're in right now, so…well, I figured I'd make things a little easier for you. There's instructions enclosed that'll tell you what to do._

Sure enough, within the envelope the letter'd come in, there was a sheet with easy-to-follow directions that was labeled, 'Harvesting Instructions.'

Perplexed, Chase noted an address at the top of the paper and teleported there to see if things became any clearer at that location.

At first, they didn't. The area was almost completely abandoned and rundown, and the actual address appeared to be an empty, dilapidated warehouse.

It appeared that nothing of value could be found here.

Still, willing to give Spicer the benefit of the doubt, Chase decided to at least take a look inside the warehouse to see if there was anything to be seen.

Upon entering, it looked like one would expect it to from a view of the outside: desolate, broken, and empty.

There was nothing here, after all.

Chase frowned and turned to leave, decidedly disappointed, when a Jackbot zoomed up to him from out of nowhere.

"Hello, Master Young," it politely greeted, bowing in mechanical subservience. "Have you come to see your gift?"

Chase eyed the robot warily. "Yes," he said eventually, "I have. But it appears that there is nothing here."

"On the surface, there isn't," the robot replied. "If just anybody were to walk in and see what was going on here, it would likely cause a global panic. Shall I deactivate the cloaking device, sir?"

The dragonlord blinked in surprise. A cloaking device? He hadn't even noticed…

Jack must've seriously improved the quality of his machines if he'd been able to build a cloaking device even _Chase_ couldn't see through!

"Yes," he ordered of the robot, "deactivate it."

The Jackbot dipped into another bow before zooming off somewhere. There was a fuzzy, static sound and the inside of the warehouse blurred for a moment before falling away completely.

Chase gaped openly at the laboratory setting that'd been revealed, the glass, liquid-filled tubes by the thousands; each containing a dormant, physically-mature dragon in the likeness of Dojo.

This was…amazing. There were so many dragons…cloned, he would have to assume, but dragons nonetheless.

Jack had given him the resources to make Lao Máng Lóng for _centuries_ to come.

Chase was honestly speechless.

Instructions followed, each of the dragons was properly harvested and converted into the immortality-giving soup (and just when had Spicer figured out how Lao Máng Lóng was made?), leaving Chase with nothing to do but return home with Jack's startlingly generous gift.

However, even this spectacular present, the sort Chase had presumed to be the grand finale, was not the end of the gift-giving, and on December twentieth, yet another box appeared on the everlord's porch.

Chase wondered how yesterday's gift could possibly be topped, only to open the box and discover a lewdly-titled cookbook. Oddly enough, the cover bore a white-fleshed and very much nude young man in an innocent pose, nether regions concealed by a pile of fresh, red strawberries.

It took a moment to realize that the photograph of the model on the cover had only been altered in such a way as to _appear_ exceedingly pale and was not, in fact, Spicer.

_I saw this InterCourses book awhile back and decided that it might come in handy somewhere down the line. There's definitely a couple things in there I'd like us to try._

"Us," Chase repeated aloud, testing the word on his tongue. Several years ago, he'd have _hated_ the presumptuousness in the use of that particular word; the arrogance it implied in attempting to determine what Chase did.

Now, it didn't have the same upset factor it once did.

Jack had given him so much in these past few weeks; proven his intimate knowledge of the dragonlord's personality by offering him gifts that appealed to his body and soul, his stomach, his mind, and even his heart.

For a complex and multilayered individual like Chase Young, this was no easy task. For Spicer to have accomplished it…

Well, perhaps it was time he accepted Jack as his own. Perhaps it was alright to allow himself to be seduced.

Perhaps it was acceptable to begin using the word, 'us.'

Chase stood and went to store the cookbook away for later use, for certainly, it _would_ be used.

The next gift to appear was a pale blue satin bedspread, which was odd as Chase already had a set quite like it.

_Yeah, you **do** already have these,_ Jack's note confirmed, _and I swear I haven't been stalking you…lately. I was one hell of a stalker back when I was twelve, though, and I remember finding out that your sheets were about this color… Anyways, I thought it might be a good idea to have a backup set because the way I figure it, we're gonna **need** a backup set when we're done. I fully intend to see your current sheets **wrecked,** so, y'know…be prepared to swap 'em out with these._

Chase 'hmm'ed. _Wrecked_ sheets, eh? He just might have to hold Spicer to that promise…

The next day, interestingly enough, a heavy package arrived, filled with enough personal lubricant (in all sorts of types and flavors, at that) to fill a Jacuzzi.

_We're gonna need this if we're gonna fuck up your sheets as bad as I want to. You probably already have some lube lying around from when you fucked Wuya (I'll bet it was **necessary,** the dried-up old bitch), but hey: new lube for a new partner, right? And for the record, I'm up for just about anything you're up for. I don't mind taking a little time for some fun stuff unlike a certain witch we both know who's always obsessed about getting straight to the point. I can't say for sure she's the same in bed as she is in everything else she does, but I'd say it's a safe bet and I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I get the feeling things are gonna be a bit better for you with me._

Spicer guessed correctly: Wuya _had_ been very much the, 'do it and get it over with' type. It'd always been a source of annoyance to Chase, who _hated_ treating sex as a task to be gotten over with, but at the time, Wuya had been the closest to him and the most convenient.

How _convenient_ Jack was making himself, now! And _he_ claimed to be open to anything; none of that, "I don't _want_ to wait a minute, I want it _now_" nonsense!

Chase was looking forward to it already.

The following day only heightened that fervor when Spicer decided that for this present, a scavenger hunt was appropriate.

_I'm sure you've found the picture that came with this note by now._

Oh, certainly, Chase had found it: the photograph of a delightfully naked white body in a lovely artistic pose. Unfortunately, that which the dragonlord was _truly_ interested in seeing was inconspicuously hidden from view and he could see neither Jack's more intimate anatomy nor his face.

_Well, the day I took that one, I had a little photo shoot: that's right, there are **more.** There are nine more 8x10 glossies hidden somewhere around your palace and I have no doubt you'll be able to find them. Think of them as…a gift to tide you over. I'll see you **real** soon…_

Needless to say, Chase was off on an immediate search for the other photographs, tracking down each and every one of them until he had an even ten.

All of them were simply _beautiful._ Did Spicer know how soft and supple his skin looked in these pictures? How interesting the contours of his body made themselves? How bitable his exposed throat appeared and how perfect those hips of his were for grabbing with enough force to bruise, using them as an anchor while he…

Chase stopped himself. Any more of that, and he would have to go hunting Jack down _now,_ and that wouldn't do.

The gift-giving game wasn't over yet; it wasn't _time_ yet.

So, Chase waited.

He waited for seconds, minutes, hours and finally, the twenty-fourth of December came.

No gift came with it, nor did a letter and it perplexed Chase so that he _strongly_ considered making use of the photographs in the meantime. After all, Jack _had_ said they were meant to tide him over…

But, no.

Chase Young had nothing if not patience, and for Spicer, after all the wonderful gifts he had given him so far, he could be patient.

So long as he didn't look at those damnably sexy pictures, he could make it.

As the clock struck midnight, officially ringing in the twenty-fifth, Chase decided that nothing was to be coming today.

Thoroughly put off, the overlord went to retire to bed with an annoyed scowl on his face.

What had caused the break in pattern? What was the meaning of all the days leading up to this point if Spicer had no intention of following through on his promises?

Did Jack _truly_ have the gall to _toy_ with him? With _Chase Young?_

Chase snorted and continued on his way to the bedroom.

Unfortunately, waiting all day had made him spectacularly horny and though he was not wont to masturbate to alleviate his arousal, neither was he keen on crawling off to Spicer like a dog in heat and so it was looking like the photographs were going to come in handy, after all.

As it turned out, they were entirely unnecessary.

Throwing open the door to his bedroom, Chase was greeted with a magnificent sight, for Jack Spicer was lying there on his bed, naked as the day he'd been born.

The pictures he had sent were lovely, but really _could not_ compare to the sight of the pale youth in person: that flawless white skin, that fiery red hair, and those glimmering ruby eyes, practically lighting the bedroom with a lusty glow.

What's more, no part of the genius was modestly hidden from view this time and Chase could see _everything._

He liked the view very much, especially with the festive, holiday angle Jack had decided to take to the presentation of his nether regions. His cock, currently standing at attention, had been painted with a single, curving stripe of red so as to resemble a peppermint candy cane and it'd even been adorned with a green sprig of mistletoe.

"Merry Christmas, Chase," Jack purred to him, a smile on his face. "Ready for your last present?"

"Oh, I certainly am," Chase assured, already disrobing. "I believe I'll be getting quite a _lot_ of use out of this one…"

Jack's grin broadened. "I look forward to it…"

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A/N: HA! You guys thought I wasn't gonna post anything for the holiday season, didn't you? Well, I did, so there! XD**

**Anyways, I was sitting at my computer a couple of days ago and thinking to myself that I really _should_ write a Chack fic for Christmas. I couldn't really think of anything, so I eventually decided I would just post a little ficlet to have _something_ ready in time.**

**And then, I got the idea for this when I glanced over at my chocolate-filled Advent calendar. I started writing, and one thing led to another, and all of a sudden, it's (technically) the day of Christmas Eve, and I've got twenty-two pages of fic.**

**Um...whoops? XD**

**Well, anyways, Happy Holidays, everybody, and I hope you liked the fic! :D**

**Oh! And I have to dedicate this fic to Silvarbelle for being awesome and to duo_mortis for buying me a year's paid account over on LJ. Thanks, you guys! :)**


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